


Three Months

by Ryuchan20



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: AU, Death Gods, M/M, Sadness but I promise it will have happiness too, supernatural stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-08
Packaged: 2018-03-16 23:52:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3507296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryuchan20/pseuds/Ryuchan20
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shintarou Midorima has just received news he never expected. He has three months left to live. With the grim fate in front of him he tries to carry on until a Shinigami in disguise makes contact with him. Kazunari Takao is a god of death sent to collect the souls of humans who are to pass on, but he's a little early and a little too interested in getting to know this doomed human.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Months

Staring across the room, outside the window it was sunny and he could see small birds flying from tree to tree. It was a quiet moment people seemed to bypass in everyday life, but he only watched it with a sort of desperation as he let the words sink in.

 

“Midorima-san, I am sorry.” The doctor gave him the most sympathetic look he'd ever received from another person.

 

Letting his green eyes slid back to the man he finally gave the faintest nod of his head. Three months, perhaps more if he was lucky. The small tumor in his spine had spread and now it was just a waiting game. It would eventually kill him. While the doctor had said based on it's growth and location he could have three months that could change. He could die tomorrow or six months from now. Either way his time was up and everything he saw now could be the last time he'd see it. 

 

“I understand. Thank you, Doctor.” He let out a small sigh and stood, bowing his head to the man before turning to leave the room. There was nothing he could do. He'd felt an oddness lately while he'd played basketball. There was some moments his head felt fuzzy, his hands began to shake at odd times and then there were headaches. He thought perhaps it was simply his diet though he was always careful in taking care of himself. To find out instead he had an inoperable tumor that would kill him had not been on the list of things he prepared himself to hear.

 

He left the hospital and just walked. There was no reason to go back to school, or to practice. In truth he realized despite hearing this news he had no one to say goodbye to other than his family. He had no true close friends. His teammates would perhaps feel his loss on the team, but they weren't particularly close. He'd never felt like his life was lacking but now the harsh reality was slapping him in the face. What legacy would he leave behind except his basketball? He'd never focused on dating, or forming friendships. All he had were acquaintances he saw frequently. 

 

Since he didn't know what else to do he went to the park. His head was far too full of what ifs and regret. It honestly surprised him because he'd never been the type to regret. He always did all he could so there was no reason to regret when things went wrong. He'd always put in the most effort he could and if he failed it was fate. This did not feel like fate though. It felt like a cruel joke and he felt...anger.

 

How was this fair?

 

____________________________

 

Checking the name again he let out a heavy sigh. Shintarou Midorima. What an interesting name. In truth this job wasn't awful but he always felt a bit bad when he had to collect them. This one was a messy one too. Incurable illnesses were always rough. In most cases the person would be riddled with regret and sadness. Some would be at peace and it was always a relief to see their resolve when he visited them. 

 

Kazunari Takao was a Shinigami and as a Shinigami his job was clear. Collect the souls who were meant to pass on. However, he had a bad habit of meeting and spending time with the souls he was meant to collect before their time was up, and getting to know them. Sometimes it would help. They began to accept their fate so when the time came they were ready for better or worse. This was no different. 

 

Stepping onto the street he changed his clothes so he wouldn't stand out and merged into the crowd. No one noticed him anyways. A god of death was more or less invisible to those not facing death. He could make himself appear to them but it wasn't necessary now. Now he needed to meet with Midorima and help him accept his fate. 

 

He entered the park, taking the long way around, enjoying the simple atmosphere of the life around him. It wasn't like being a god of death was all sad and gloomy, but it lacked the brightness of life. Something he only ever got to experience it when collecting souls. He found his intended target sitting down alone, staring at the fountain. He'd seen that face so many times, the face of a mortal facing their mortality. It always got to him a bit. He felt that at one point he had been alive himself before becoming a Shinigami, but whenever he asked his superiors he never got an answer. He also couldn't remember anything solid to back up the hunch.

 

Reaching into his pocket he pulled out some bird seed and then sat down next to the man, tossing out some seed to allow the birds to come over. He didn't look next to him for several moments but he felt eyes on him. He'd done this so much it felt like second nature to gain a mortal's attention. After a moment he held his hand out full of seed to him. “Want to feed them?” He offered a smile, his eyes betraying nothing. Shintarou Midorima was a handsome guy but behind the confused stern look he gave him there was fear, and Kazunari was no stranger to it.

 

____________________________

 

He'd been entirely lost in thought, wondering what things he needed to get in order to prepare for the inevitable. He didn't notice the man walking toward him till he sat down next to him, and then he just started feeding birds. It was odd and not what he expected. He glanced around, seeing several benches around the fountain that were empty and yet the man chose to sit here. He'd expected to be harassed or something, but several moments went by and the man smiled as the birds flew over, plucking at the seeds on the ground. Looking from the odd black-haired man to the birds, Shintarou wondered if birds were aware how long they lived. He looked back at the man and found him staring back and holding out his hand to him.

 

“Want to feed them?” There was a warm smile that reached the man's eyes as he held out his hand full of bird seed. It was disarming.

 

He quickly cleared his throat and looked away, reaching to adjust his glasses. “No, thank you.” He murmured softly, feeling more embarrassed that he'd been caught watching the other. What an odd guy. He just sat down and started feeding birds of all things and seemed far too carefree. He gave the man a brief glance, seeing the other still watching him. The man looked young, about his age. Was he in college? “What is it?”

 

The smile on the man's face grew wider. “Nothing, you're just really amusing. You look so upset about feeding birds even though you were watching.” He laughed. “Are you sure you don't want to try?” He held out his hand again.

 

Shintarou felt like this was absurd, but in reality when had he ever taken the time to do something frivolous or carefree? He wouldn't ever have time to do it again so what could it hurt? He reached out and pinched some seed between his long fingers. He gave them a quick toss, the seeds moving in a high arc before hitting the ground.

 

“Wow, what a throw.” The man laughed. “I'm Takao Kazunari.” he offered his name rather suddenly and then titled his head. “What about you, mister grumpy-face?”

 

He frowned and his brows furrowed a little at the odd nickname the man felt entitled to bestow on him. He still gave his name though. “Midorima Shintarou.”

 

Takao-san looked at him thoughtfully then nodded. “Alright then, Shin-chan, why don't you try feeding them more. If you're lucky they'll come up real close.” he held out his hand again.

 

The even more absurd nickname made him blanched as he opened his mouth to protest, “That name-”

 

“Come on, come on, or they'll fly away.” Takao urged him.

 

A little startled by the interruption, he was quick to grab some seeds and toss them out again causing several of the little birds hopping closer. He never got a chance to protest the name again since Takao kept his attention on the birds. Before long he found himself intrigued by it, taking seeds and placing them more delicately by his feet like Takao did. He was fascinated, watching the birds dare to come closer. Such tiny little creatures facing giants and yet for food they came closer. It was like some odd bond of trust had built up in a matter of moments. These little beings trusted that he would not hurt them. In retrospect he was an overly cautious creature always sticking to superstition and fate to guide him. Had he ever dared to be reckless in his life? 

 

Takao then clapped his hands to brush off the remaining dust from the seeds and let out a sigh. “No more, guys, sorry.” He was talking to the birds, seeing them look up and chirp, and held up his hands to show them. Then that silver gaze went back to him. “That was fun though, right?”

 

The odd thing that struck him was that thinking on it, it had been fun. He'd hit several moments where he'd been so focused watching the birds eating, and trying to get them to come closer, he had completely forgotten about the news he'd heard just an hour ago. He adjusted his glasses and looked away. “It was a little.” 

 

Apparently pleased by that, Takao smiled again and then stood up. “Ah, I need to get going but I'll be back here tomorrow if you want to feed the birds with me again.” 

 

Shintarou looked up, wondering why he felt compelled to answer him with a favorable reply. “I might.” Was all he was willing to say though, still a bit confused by the entire exchange.

 

Despite the noncommittal response Takao smiled again. It was odd, each smile was different and yet all had something under it that was unclear. It wasn't malicious so much as telling, but of what was beyond him. “Then _maybe_ I'll see you tomorrow. Take care, Shin-chan!” He waved and turned to leave.

 

Before he could complain at the use of that ridiculous cutesy nickname the man was already out of earshot. He was left sitting there, hearing the faint chirping of hungry birds. What an odd man. He thought that but he was already planning in the back of his mind to come here at the same time again tomorrow.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhhhh, I'm sorry if this is a little too sad to start with but this idea came to me and won't leave me alone. So I hope you all continue reading and enjoyed this first little blurb.


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